


When Life Hands You a Hobbit

by SilentWitness



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adoption, Adorably possessive Kili, All the fluffs, BOFA Fix-It, Family, Family Feels, Fatherly Thorin, Gen, Misunderstanding, prompt-fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 00:37:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentWitness/pseuds/SilentWitness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They've laughed together.  They've cried together.  They've lived together and almost died together.  That makes them family, and a family they will be, no matter what they have to do.</p><p>Post BOFA, the company of dwarves are keeping their hobbit.  Because he's family, plain and simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Simple Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow, I just discovered the story prompts on LiveJournal.
> 
> This is a response to one of them. I was browsing through, and this one caught my eye, and I started writing it out in my head, so I thought I'd write it down and share it. I was just going to leave it as a comment there, but even this introduction decided to exceed the word count. So I guess it is now a full-length story.
> 
>    
> This was the prompt: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/4373.html?thread=8774421#t8774421
> 
> "Sometime during the journey or after the BOTFA the dwarves decide that they want to adopt Bilbo as one of their own. The dwarves, a naturally secretive race rarely adopt outsiders into their family. Cue strange mystical ritual and freaked out Bilbo.
> 
> Bonus: Thorin adopts Bilbo but Fili is still his heir."

Beorn's home was as close to a hobbit hole as he'd encountered on this journey, Bilbo decided. Oh, it wasn't a thing like a hobbit hole in reality, and Bilbo knew this. But it was warm and comfortable. Bread and honey might not be appetizing for dwarves, but they were comfort foods for Bilbo. More importantly, it was Beorn's private home. Something Bilbo was missing dearly.

Rivendell had been everything Bilbo had ever dreamed, really. Grand, beautiful, full of life and singing and joy. Elrond was a perfect host, and the banquets had been delicious. But it was, perhaps, too full of life. Activity was everywhere, elves here and elves there, doing whatever needed to be done. It was welcoming... but it wasn't a warm little space filled with meaningful trinkets and the smells of fresh bread and soup wafting into every room.

It wasn't home.

Neither were the inns of men that the company had frequently stayed in during their journey. Certainly the cold ground and a campfire were not.

So Beorn's, so far, was what reminded Bilbo of Bag-End. 

Which is probably why, one evening when his belly was full and the crackle of the fireplace had warmed his bones, Bilbo began to share some stories from home with the company. Fili, Kili and Ori listened eagerly to his tales of thieving relatives, kindly neighbors, and rascally youths. The rest of the company pretended to indifference, but Bilbo was a born storyteller, and actually had the attention of all.

By-and-by Kili took up the storytelling - recounting some of his own adventures as a lad, which had Fili blushing with embarrassment. Bofur, too, graced the conversation with stories of his own. Really, the evening had gone a long way toward bonding the hobbit with his traveling companions.

Looking back, no one would remember how the conversation turned to age. But when it did, the two youngest members got a shock.

Fili, in distress, looked toward Gandalf, "How could you have us bring him along, Gandalf?" He said reproachfully, "He's fifty years old!"

Bilbo took this the wrong way, bristling that they thought him too old to accompany them. "Fifty is an entirely respectable age, I'll have you know. And what's more, if I may say so, I have the vitality of a 33-year-old."

"33?" Kili gasped in horror, "Bilbo, where are your parents? How could they let you come with us?"

Now Bilbo was merely confused, rather than upset. Of what possible relevance could his parents have to this conversation? "Uh, if you must know, my parents are dead."

The instant looks of pity startled Bilbo, "Well it's not like it happened yesterday - it's been years. And even though they died younger than I'd have liked, they both still lived full lives."

Bilbo couldn't understand why the looks of pity deepened. He turned helpless eyes to Gandalf, who just seemed amused.

Fili and Kili both suddenly surged from their seats and nearly smothered their burglar in a bone crushing hug, both murmuring nonsensical, soothing things.

When the boys finally released Bilbo, Kili had tears shimmering on his eyelashes and turned to his uncle in anger, "Uncle, how can you let a child come with us? Not just a child, an orphan!" He paused, then vehemently, "And if you were going to bring along a child, why not Gimli? He's ten years older, and he already knows how to fight!"

Gimli was Kili's best friend besides Fili. The two had been devastated on learning Gimli was too young to journey with them. They'd campaigned for months, unsuccessfully.

"Child?" Bilbo squeaked, "Orphan?"

And that did it. Thorin's shoulders began to shake with mirth. Which started all the dwarves laughing.

Kili was furious. "This is no laughing matter!"

Thorin had the grace to try to appear serious, "Bilbo is not a child, Kili, Fili. Hobbits don't live as long as we do. He is a fully-grown adult. Did you not realize that?"

The brothers admitted they hadn't, and were then horrified again to learn the burglar who'd already stolen their hearts would probably die before he reached 100.

"Old Took lived to be 130," Bilbo explained to them, "but most of us pass in our 90s or early hundreds. I'd like to make it to my eleventy-first birthday. It's a special one, and I already know what my party shall be. Extravagant gifts for all, I think. Maybe Bofur shall make toys for all the children."

And just like that, the conversation turned to birth day customs and presents, and then eventually tapered away as the company adjourned to bed.

It seemed such an insignificant conversation. A bit of a laugh at Fili's and Kili's expense. None of them could have imagined the way it would later change their lives.


	2. To be fair, it was Bilbo's idea

Thorin had a headache.

It was a headache of massive proportions. 

Never had he imagined that something as banal as negotiations with his allies could set his head to throbbing this brutally. There was no hope for this day, and finally he dismissed the ambassadors to dinner, and relaxed back into the throne with closed eyes.

The doors to the throne room flung open with a crash, and Thorin groaned.

He opened his eyes to an enraged Kili dragging Bilbo by the arm. Behind him followed Fili - who seemed just as determined, Ori - who was flitting about in distress that Kili was hurting the hobbit, and Balin, Bifur, Bofur, Nori, Bombur and Oin - clearly having been ordered to follow the princes. This rest of the company was already in the throne room, and when Fili ascertained that no one but them was still around, he closed the doors behind them.

Kili yanked Bilbo forward and deposited him in front of Thorin. Bilbo turned backwards with a glare, and rubbed his shoulder petulantly.

"Tell him!" Kili demanded, "Tell him you forgive him for the Arkenstone."

No one could resist looking at the throne, where the arkenstone had been restored to its place.

Thorin was puzzled. 

"I already have," he stated, "have you doubts on that, Burglar? I thought you'd forgiven me my err in judgment."

It had ultimately been Bilbo's actions that had saved his life, and Thorin suspected, the lives of many of the company. After the battle had ended, a wounded and emotional Thorin had stood among the carnage, facing the burglar he'd last threatened with death and banished. Bilbo had flinched back from him, still shell-shocked from the battle, and believing that Thorin was still angry. Elf, dwarf and man alike who stood about the two had tensed, preparing to whisk the diplomatic creature from harm. 

Instead, Thorin had wobbled forward and fallen to his knees before the hobbit, pulling him into a tight embrace. It was a firm embrace, but gentle. He'd clasped Bilbo to him as he would a child - as he had often comforted the hurts of Fili and Kili when they were Bilbo's size. When he felt the small splashes of the hobbit's tears hit his skin, he'd given way to weeping as well.

And when Bilbo had pulled away and started babbling his apologies, Thorin had covered his mouth.

"No," he'd said, "I am sorry. It was I who was wrong. It is I who should apologize."

"We were both wrong," Bilbo clung to the hand he'd just pulled from his mouth, his voice soft and shaky, "you... you don't hate me anymore?"

Thorin felt his heart break at those words. His mind superimposed the image of Kili onto Bilbo's face. Kili who had spoken the same words to him when he was just a child. Kili, who snuck from his room one night with the urge to play at being the uncle he so idolized. Kili, who'd managed to start a fire that destroyed the forge. Kili, who'd hid and heard Thorin shout that he'd kill the person who'd set the fire. Kili, who'd decided that his uncle hated him, and had run away.

It was two harrowing days believing that Kili had been killed in the forge fire, before Fili burst into the home, grabbed Thorin's hand, and pulled his uncle almost two miles away, to a tree with thick winding roots hiding a bleeding, shivering child. Kili had stood before him, looking up at his uncle, huge eyes leaking fat tears as his trembling voice sobbed out apologies. 

Thorin pulled Bilbo back into his embrace and rubbed his back soothingly, as he had with his nephew all those years before, and he spoke the same words, "Of course not. Of course I don't hate you. I never hated you." And as with Kili, Bilbo relaxed into him, and Thorin felt his heart surge with familial love and gratitude.

In the weeks and months that followed, Thorin and Bilbo spent a lot of time together, but they never mentioned that dark time again. Bilbo insisted on helping with the restoration in any way he could. He was eager to learn, and Thorin had a lot to teach him. Thorin respected the fact that Bilbo was an adult grown, even middle-aged, but Thorin still had at least a hundred years on him. You don't learn less simply because you live longer. He found himself teaching Bilbo tricks to stonework and mining as he would a son. Point in fact, Kili and Fili had latched onto Bilbo, and Thorin often found himself teaching the same things to all three, and sometimes Ori. He found himself sometimes mentally referring to Bilbo as "one of his boys," and had to quash down the thought so it would not make its way to his tongue.

When Bilbo wasn't with Thorin, he divided his time between the rest of the company. He loved working with Bombur in the kitchens. He was doing his best to convince the portly cook to start a garden somewhere nearby. He also spent a good deal of time helping sort out the documents scattered haphazardly through Erebor by Smaug. He even made time for Dwalin to teach him some self defense techniques. He was bonding with all of the dwarves without a trace of unhappiness or resentment.

So Kili's declaration that Thorin publicly forgive Bilbo again for the matter was disturbing.

"I already told you, there's nothing to forgive. We both made mistakes," Bilbo snapped, though his irritation was directed toward Kili. "What is this about?"

"You're not mad at uncle?" Fili sounded confused.

"No! Why would you even think that?" Bilbo sounded wounded.

"But, but..."

Thorin was sitting straight in his chair in his most commanding pose. "Fili, Kili, what is going on here?"

"He's leaving!" Kili cried. "He's leaving us! To go back to the Shire." The last word was snarled with contempt. "You can't let him."

This caused a ripple through the dwarves. "You're returning to the Shire, Bilbo?" Bofur asked.

"And how'd ye find out, laddie?" Dwalin looked almost perturbed that he hadn't been the first to know.

Gandalf stepped forward now to try to diffuse the situation, having been part of the earlier delegation proceedings. "I believe young Kili must have overheard us talking. Since I will be moving on myself when we get the contracts fairly squared away with our allies, I offered to accompany Bilbo back to the Shire, so that he would be safer."

Bilbo cleared his throat nervously. "Yes well, I'll have to go back eventually, goodness knows, even if it's simply to prevent the S-Bs from taking every last spoon from Bag-End. We had only just discussed it, and Gandalf doesn't even know when the delegations will be over. I hadn't a chance to tell anyone else."

Thorin felt a pang in his heart. The thought of Bilbo leaving for the Shire and never returning was like a punch to the gut. He swallowed thickly before he spoke.

"Is this what you want, Bilbo, to leave? Because I hope you know that you are an honored guest. You're welcome to stay as long as you like."

Bilbo smiled faintly, "I know. I, I know. In a way, I don't want to leave at all, really. You all have come to mean so very much to me. But sooner or later, we all have to go home."

"It wouldn't be forever," Bilbo added quickly, "I couldn't imagine never seeing you again. I'll visit. As often as I can. And you can visit me too, if you have the chance."

"But you haven't had a chance to meet our mother yet," Kili protested, "or Gimli. If you leave now, you might never meet them."

Fili stepped forward, "Why can't your home be here, Bilbo, with us? What have you got back there? A hole? We can make a hole for you right here. Twice as deep and four times as grand!"

Bilbo smiled at him, "I have no doubt in the dwarves abilities to make anything grand. But you have to understand, all my family is back there. You could replicate everything here, down to my mother's fine doilies," he smiled over at Ori, "but a hobbit has to have his family, too."

"WE could be your family," Kili insisted, tears hovering in his eyes. 

Bilbo felt his own eyes fill with tears, "I wish we could be family, truly, Kili. I do. You will always be the family of my heart."

"Like a brother?" Kili asked, standing shoulder to shoulder with his own brother, and leaning into him slightly.

Bilbo laughed, a shaky, hopeful laugh. "I have no brothers of my own. I'd hardly know what to do with one. Let us be cousins instead. I have loads of those, and I'm quite close to several of them."

"Cousins," Kili said. "Fili and I have always wanted a cousin." And Fili nodded his head. 

Bilbo felt himself choking up again, "Well then that's settled. You will be cousins of my heart. You all will be family of my heart." He opened it up to all the dwarves. "But eventually, I must go away, to my home and to the family waiting for me there." He sniffed, suspiciously, swiping at his eyes. "In any case, it will be several weeks before I can even think about leaving. No need to worry about it now. So, if you'll just excuse me..."

Bilbo beat a hasty retreat, clearly to go lick his emotional wounds in private. Gandalf took his leave as well, and followed the hobbit to comfort him. They left behind a room full of disturbed dwarves.

"We can't let him leave us, uncle, we just can't." Kili choked out.

"I don't want him to leave either, Kili. In truth, it pains me greatly to think on it. But there isn't much to be done." Thorin's expression was uncommonly open. The whole company could see his distress at the hobbit's return plans.

"We could have the elves request him to stay as Erebor's diplomat." Balin suggested. Bilbo had been asked to sit in on many meeting between the two former enemies. The elves responded well to him, even at times when the dwarves and elves could hardly be civil to one another. 

But that idea was rejected. Having to rely on a hobbit to keep the peace would greatly lower the estimation of the dwarves in the eyes of both the elves and men. 

Ice broken, the company stayed in the throne room for hours, suggesting and rejecting ways to keep their burglar with them. At long last, Dwalin gave a sigh. "It's no use. Bilbo wants to be around family, and we cannot be his family."

"Yes we can," Ori suddenly spoke up.

All eyes turned toward him.

"Remember when we were staying with the bear-shifter? Bilbo told us stories about his life back home. Fili and Kili were so shocked that Bilbo was younger than them."

"Shut it, Ori," Kili protested, cheeks flaming with remembered embarrassment.

"No, think about it. Bilbo is fifty years old. And both of his parents are dead." Ori could see no one was catching on.

"The law goes like this: 'A dwarf having attained no less than 90 years and no more 210, and having proven himself of exemplary standing in the community, may bid to take on the care and responsibility of raising anyone 70 years or less, who through circumstances has been rendered orphaned, or whose family pose a direct danger to health or well-being. Upon ruling by court or king, ritual performed, applicant will be responsible for the care, education and contribution to society, as of a child of his own flesh.'" Ori grinned.

There was a stunned silence.

"You want us to adopt him?" Thorin said at last.

"It can't be done," Gloin insisted. "The lad is not a dwarf."

"It doesn't specify that the person under 70 has to be a dwarf," Ori insisted, "Just that he has to be abused or orphaned. Which Bilbo is. Orphaned, I mean."

Gloin shook his head. "As much as we like the lad, we are not the only dwarves in Erebor. No other dwarf will accept this decision."

"As long as the king rules it," Bombur said, rousing himself from his half-doze, "they shall have to. If the law does not specify race." Bombur wanted to keep the little hobbit as well, so great a help he was in the kitchens.

"What does it matter what others think?" Nori spoke up. "He's our burglar. One of us."

"He's family, plain and simple." Oin neatly summed it up.

"There is one small problem," Dori pointed out, "none of the others will ever accept a hobbit as heir to the throne of Erebor."

Thorin nodded before realizing what Dori was implying. "Me?" He all but sputtered, "You want me to adopt him?"

The whole company nodded. "Aye. I don't know if you realize it, Thorin, but you treat him as a son already." Balin was stating the obvious, and it was clear there wasn't one dwarf in the room who didn't agree.

"You took him to the mines and showed him how to collect his first gem." A ritual reserved strictly for a direct line, it was designed for fathers to pass their mining techniques to their sons.

"He sits at your right at table." A seat normally reserved for the heir of one's house.

"You gave him the mithril shirt." A valuable gift one would not give to any but family.

"You taught him with your sword." "You've entrusted him with state secrets." "You hug him."

Thorin raised his hand to stop the barrage of reasons his company thought he treated Bilbo as a son. He couldn't deny them. He couldn't deny that he'd increasingly felt towards Bilbo the affection and pride of family.

"You HAVE to adopt him, uncle," Kili burst out, "He wants us to be cousins."

To be fair, it was Bilbo's idea.

The company could see the moment Thorin acquiesced, and the three youngest cheered.

It was decided. Thorin would adopt Bilbo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just went to look up specifics on dwarven lifespans, and I realized I was writing them completely wrong! I had thought they lived 350-400 years on average, but I found it's the general consensus that they only live about 250 years or so. Yikes. That would make the ages 130-270 to adopt a child all wrong. So I've fixed them in this chapter. My apologies if this moves the story around, or confuses anyone.
> 
> But in fixing these ages, I've found myself in a conundrum. According to the book, Thorin is (I think) about 194 when he dies. Originally I thought he'd only lived about half his lifespan, but now I realize he'd lived over 2/3rds of it. So that makes him a little on the old side to be able to adopt a child.
> 
> What's more, it looks like we may all be a little off when is comes to how old a dwarf is when he comes of age. One internet source has placed it as young as 40 years. 
> 
> So here's what I've decided to make things right: we know for certain that Gimli, at 61, was considered too young for the journey. Yet Kili, at 74 (76?) was considered an adult. (I am politely disregarding that the book specifically names Fili as the youngest of the company, because of the dates of birth given in the appendix.) So I'm going to keep the official age for dwarven adulthood at 70 years, with the idea that a dwarf between the ages of 40 and 70 would probably be considered as we consider teenagers. Not quite grown, but not children exactly. Which now makes Fili's and Kili's reactions to Bilbo's age a little over-dramatic, but does make sense. You wouldn't take a 15-year-old to war, but an 18-year-old is old enough to enlist.
> 
> This really doesn't change much to the plot of the story, as Bilbo is still quite young enough to be considered adoptable by dwarven age limitations, and Thorin is by no means a doddering old fool. (As hardy a race as they are, I imagine that they might retain their vitality right up to their last years of life, declining somewhat more rapidly than we do at the end.)
> 
> It might change a little of how I write Fili and Kili. They have long been established as immature, but that seems to be just their personalities. Especially considering that they might have been overly doted upon in a society with few children. But I believe most other dwarves their age would be much more mature, so I'll probably tone down their antics just a little.
> 
> I'll also add this explanation to the next chapter I write in case someone misses this and gets confused. 
> 
> But how weird is it that Bilbo and Thorin, at their natural lifespans, would actually end up dying right around the same time?
> 
> What do you think, shall I wait for Dis and Gimli to arrive before Thorin makes the official ruling and performs the ritual, or would you rather have them arrive to news of the king's scandalous new son and presumed heir?


	3. The bane of Dain

It was a beautiful day to be alive, Dis decided.

For months, she had lived on pins and needles, fearing that she had sent her sons to their death on this hopeless mission of her brother's. Her days had been filled with anxiety, and her nights with nightmares. Each day she expected word to come that the last of her family had died. Each night she tried to stifle the dark thought that if the company perished on their way to the Lonely Mountain, there might be no one left to send back word.

Dis grew very thin in those months of limbo. So anxious was she, that she couldn't seem to summon the energy to cook or eat. She busied herself doing whatever she could, pushing herself physically to the limit, just so she wouldn't have to think any longer. So she wouldn't have to worry. She ignored the concerns of her friends, the kindnesses of her neighbors, because if she let herself relax then she'd start to think again, and she knew she would break down completely.

When word finally came, she almost collapsed. Holding the sealed envelope in shaking hands, she stared down at it, sure that it contained the news that she was alone in this world, once and for all. The messenger who brought it didn't leave. Everyone in Ered Luin knew about the quest her family had gone on, and everyone was eager to hear news of it. Yet all Dis did was stare down at her hands, unmoving. Eventually the messenger left and, returning with the wife of another of the company, found her standing in exactly the same way.

Min was Gloin's wife. She and Dis had always been friendly. They each had children, rather a rarity in the Blue Mountains, who were of similar age. When her husband had left with Dis's brother and two sons, they had bonded over a common worry. No one else could really understand how it felt to wait. And now that they were on the verge of knowing, Min knew Dis was in shock. She knew what Dis was expecting to find in the letter, because she expected it herself. She had begun Gloin's death-cloak two months before.

It was Min who finally pulled Dis into the house and sat her before the hearth. It was Min who ultimately took the letter from between trembling fingers and opened it.

The news brought a gasp of joy to her lips, and tears to her eyes, and without a second thought, she embraced her friend. "They're alive!" She cried, over and over. "They've done it, they're all alive!"

And Dis pulled out of her stupor, taking back the letter, and reading it to herself in a dazed whisper. They had done it. They had driven Smaug from the halls of Erebor. And then there was a battle... but every member of the company had made it through alive. Thorin was badly injured, as were both her boys, but they lived. They lived. And they were rebuilding their home.

Dis had cried. Min had cried. Gimli came and read the letter, and he cried. Even the messenger had tears in his eyes as he went from household to household announcing the good news.

And so the citizens of the Blue Mountains, the restless exiles, began planning their return home. Not everyone would be leaving. Some were too old to make the journey. Some were too young. Some families had truly settled here and were comfortable and did not wish to pick up roots again and walk back into the unknown. The rest began packing supplies, ending work contracts, boarding up houses.

At long last, the first group to Erebor was ready to journey, Dis at their head. Gloin's family, of course, was also going, along with relatives of any of the original company, and craftsmen with skills useful to the rebuilding of Erebor. Even this select group was a good size, so Dis knew the journey would be slow-going.

It turned out to be far more complicated than Dis would have liked, but also far less dangerous. The letter from Erebor had advised them to make a stop at Rivendell. When they did, Dis had been surprised that the hated elves were ready with supplies and guides to help them on their journey. It further surprised Dis that the elf guides were loyal and helpful, and never said an unkind word to them (at least, not one they could understand) the whole way to Erebor. Their presence made the trip an entirely different experience than any of the dwarves had anticipated. The road to the Lonely Mountain was not without danger and hardship, even with the new scarcity of goblins and wargs roaming the hills. There were several close calls along the way. But the elves were clever about finding water and food along the way, and were able to hide the group in trees, caves or warrens until the danger passed.

And so, at long last, they made it to the Lonely Mountain.

They were home. The sky was clear, the sun was shining, the danger had passed. They were home at last.

It was a good day to be alive.

When she saw the gates of Erebor loom close, she couldn't help but swell with pride for her kin. The land surrounding them had changed, she could clearly see evidence of devastation, but it was so achingly familiar. She almost expected to see her father come riding out to greet them, Frerin at his side.

She supposed now it would be Thorin riding to greet visitors, with Fili at his side. Now that she'd thought it, that image wouldn't leave her head, and she smiled proudly to herself. Fili, her golden-headed eldest, would actually one day sit as king on the throne of his ancestors. It was almost beyond her wildest dreams for him. He would marry, she decided, a beautiful and sweet-tempered lass who would provide him with two strapping sons and a daughter. Kili, too. She could not forget him. She already had in mind a young dwarf maiden for her youngest. They would have the most adorable dark-bearded children.

Dis lost herself a little, in her daydreams of her son's rule, grandchildren cavorting about her old playroom as their father and uncle made her a proud mother. She hadn't dared to dream these dreams in her exile. Now, it seemed they would become a reality.

Dis was surprised that instead of Thorin, the group was greeted by a visibly upset Dain.

"It's too late, Dis," He said without even greeting her, "I'm so sorry. He's gone utterly mad."

This was immediately worrisome. "He? Who? Who has gone mad?"

"Thorin, my lady," Dain's voice didn't waiver, "it was bad enough, his gold madness, but he recovered from that. We thought."

Dis dismounted her pony, along with the rest of the group. Servants had come to take the ponies and stable them. More were coming to collect the packs and provisions and ferret them away to rooms that had been prepared for the new arrivals. Most of the group chose to follow their things, but Gimli refused to leave, and Min had taken her friend's hand in support.

"What is it my brother has done?" She asked, fearing the worst. Gold madness could drive a good dwarf to do almost anything. She had seen it drive her own kin to attack those closest to them. "Are Fili and Kili alright?"

"In a manner of speaking, they are fine, my lady," Dain said gravely, "but they have been been disgraced."

"Disgraced?" Dis gasped, "There was no mention of this in the letter!" Behind her, Gimli gave a low sound of despair.

A disgrace was serious in the pride-driven dwarven society. It was a direct, public shaming of a dwarf's character. It could tear to pieces the reputation of the entire line. It could hurl them into poverty or self exile. Respectable dwarves were expected to limit their association with them.

"There wouldn't have been. When you were sent word, all seemed fine and proper. It has only been days past now."

"And what happened?" Dis questioned again, squeezing Min's hand so hard she could feel the bones move.

"Thorin has disowned your sons, lady," Dain told her, "He has adopted a new heir."

Dis was shocked into silence. Her newly formed dreams for her children shattering at her feet.

"Not only that," He continued, "But the new heir is a criminal. And to top it off, it isn't even dwarven."

"An outsider?" Dis repeated softly. "A criminal?" Would the insults never stop coming? Loosing Fili from his position as heir was already a disgrace, but replacing him with a criminal, an outsider was spitting in his face. She felt helpless tears building behind her eyes as she imagined the humiliation her sons must have felt. And then she felt rage start to simmer in her gut.

How dare he?

How DARE he?

"Take me to him." She demanded, her voice sharpened steel. 

Dain nodded, looking suddenly strangely smug as he led her inside.

The halls of Erebor proper were filled with dwarves and men, repairing walls, cleaning, or wandering around with trays of food or ale for the workers. It seemed the halls had not fared well under years of neglect and a dragon smashing about and burning things. The restoration clearly required as many hands as they could get. But the hands seemed happy and willing, and as they stalked through the halls, they caught snippets of conversations here and there. Most of the conversations seemed to be centered on the shock of the adoption.

Dis felt her despair and anger build with every step, until Dain led them before a set of doors.

"They are most likely in here, my lady. And now, I will take my leave." And Dain disappeared down the hall, while Dis steeled herself to open the doors and confront her brother.

Before she had the chance, a door further down the hall opened, and the forms of her two sons stepped out, shoulders hunched slightly into each other. The moved quickly without looking around them for several steps, until they finally lifted their heads and met her eyes. Their reaction was instantaneous.

"MOTHER!" They both cried, and suddenly she was engulfed by four strong arms intent on crushing her ribs into her spine. When they pulled apart, all three had tears in their eyes. Dis reached up and wiped the tears from Fili's eyes with her thumbs. Her poor, poor sons. How miserable they must be, to shed such tears.

"You're here!" Kili cried, hugging her to him again. "Why didn't they announce it? How long have you been here?" Releasing her, he spotted his friend behind her and lit up. "Gimli! You too?"

Gimli nodded seriously. "I want you to know, I'm on your side." He reassured his friend.

Kili looked puzzled but touched as he clapped his friend on the shoulder in greeting, and Dis felt her heart tug again. Had they really been shown so little support? 

"I'm so glad you're finally here."

"I am too," Fili chimed in. "So much has happened. I don't know where to start."

Dis wasn't sure she could take it. Her heart felt like goo. "Start with where your idiot uncle is, then." She told him. "And how you are doing."

"I think uncle is still in the council room, though council has ended for the day. Some of the company like to gather to talk after council is over. Bombur has been bringing in supper." Fili answered, turning and walking further down the hall.

"And you?" Dis prodded, trying to be gentle.

"Me?" Was Fili purposely avoiding her questions? Oh, her brave boys.

"You and Kili. How are you feeling?" She couldn't just let it go.

"We're fine," he said, "we both had some injuries after the battle, but we're good as new. Right, Kili?"

"Yup!" Kili was walking slightly behind them with Gimli and Min.

They reached a door and stopped. Kili's voice suddenly shook with something. Was it trepidation? He definitely sounded more excited. "Are they in there Fili?"

Fili held his hand for silence, and then nodded. 

"Mother," he said hesitantly, "before we go in, Kili and I have something to tell you."

Dis didn't think it was healthy for her heart to break so many times in a row.

"It's okay, Fili. I know," she said softly, "I already heard. About the adoption."

Both boys' faces fell. 

"Someone already told you?" Kili whined, "But I wanted to..."

Dis silenced him by grabbing his face and pulling him down to kiss his forehead. "My poor dear," she said, "You can't keep something like that a secret for long."

Kili's face screwed up for a moment, and she began feeling the anger at the unfairness of it all build up in her again. That her sons, his nephews, should have to go through something like this. She would kill her brother. She felt sure she'd be in prison by the end of the night for murder.

Fili looked somewhat crestfallen too, but opened the door revealing several dwarves sitting around two long tables, eating from an array of platters scattered over the tables. In the center in a stately chair sat Thorin, ignoring the feast before him, and concentrating on fiddling with the hair of the small creature in the seat on his right. A son of man, Dis assumed, as Dain had made it clear that he was no dwarf. She felt her stomach turn, and her anger boil over. He hadn't even looked at her yet.

"Thorin Oakenshield!" His head snapped up, but whatever had been about to happen was lost.

"MIN!" Cried a voice, as the blurred form of Gloin fairly crashed into his wife. "Gimli!" And suddenly three dwarves had been transformed into a tangle of limbs, hair, and happy tears. When they finally pulled back from their embrace, Gloin couldn't stop smiling as he kept one arm around his wife's waist and the other on his son's shoulder.

The sight of the happy, newly reunited family took a bit of the wind from Dis's sails, but she was still furious at the sight of Thorin fussing over a braid in that usurper's hair. As she stalked forward, intent on literally knocking some sense into her brother, Kili came in front of her, looking distressed. 

"Bilbo, what did you do? That one was mine!" He whined.

What?

The creature sighed, sounding put-out. "It itched! It pulls at my scalp constantly. They all do. When I scratched my head, it just fell apart." He shook his head for emphasis. In response to the movement, Thorin grabbed his head gently, pulling it back into place and holding it still, then went back to braiding in the bright blue bead.

A loud guffaw came from the table. "Sounds like shoddy work to me, laddie!" Dwalin hooted, and the rest of the dwarves laughed good naturedly as Kili pouted.

He brightened the next second, and turned back to his mother, grabbing her hand and pulling her forward. Fili, not to be left out, took her other hand. "Come and meet our new cousin!" They both said simultaneously, as if they had rehearsed it.

Directly in front of the interloper, Kili was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, looking as if he couldn't be prouder. The same expression was on Fili's face.

What was going on here? Why did they sound so happy?

"Mother, meet your new nephew, Bilbo," Fili said.

"Bilbo, meet our mother, Dis!" Kili crowed.

"I don't understand," Dis suddenly found herself shaky.

Fili looked confused. "I thought you said you'd already heard that we adopted Bilbo." He said.

"Dain told me that Thorin had given in to the gold madness and disgraced you by adopting a criminal outsider to replace you as heir." Dis explained. "I came in ready to beat you for hurting my boys." Thorin knew she would have done it, too.

"Criminal!" The little man now looked highly offended, and squirmed as if to jump up. "Why I never..."

Thorin growled at him and held him in place, "sit still, BURGLAR, it's almost done." Bilbo huffed, but did as he was told.

"Oh, uncle," Fili said reproachfully, "What did you do to make him mad this time?"

Thorin's expression was dangerously close to a pout. "I am NOT giving him 20 gold coins for every cart full of slate his people 'discover' in the mines."

That set the whole room laughing again, and Thorin hid his ghost of a smile behind a look of stolid concentration as he finished up the braid. Securing it, he gave the little man a gentle pat on the head and released him. Instantly, the man was on his feet and around the table, Thorin rising to stand behind him.

Not a man, judging from his height, and feet. A halfling.

"A halfling." Dis said, hitting her forehead with the heel of her palm, "A halfling burglar. He really got me. What a fool I've become!"

"Bilbo Baggins at your service, Ma'am," Bilbo said, bowing a little, "Er, well, sort of I suppose."

"Bilbo, son of Thorin, son of Thrain," Thorin corrected, hand on his shoulder. "You are a dwarf now, legally."

Thorin leaned forward to embrace his sister. "Dis, you old fool," he smiled, "you think I would really dethrone Fili on a whim? He's been my heir since his birth. That will not change."

"But you did adopt an heir." Dis pointed out.

"I adopted a son, Dis," Thorin said, "Bilbo has made it quite plain that if we even think of making him sit on this throne, he'll disown us all, and go straight back to the shire."

"No way!" Kili suddenly had the halfling in a vice grip from behind, hugging him to him, "He's ours now. He's never going back there!"

Bilbo gave a long suffering sigh, "Kili, I love you dearly lad, but for the last time, you cannot keep me from going back. I'm a grown hobbit."

"Not anymore, you're a dwarf now. And a child one at that, especially now that you'll live so much longer."

"Kili."

"You belong to us!"

"I belong WITH you," Bilbo corrected, "which is why I am going back to pack up the things I want to bring back here, and settle my affairs and properties. I won't be gone long, and I will have 'adult supervision' if you like." 

He saw Dis watching them with an amused look on her face, and squirmed to be let go, only causing Kili to tighten his grip. He cast an apologetic look at her. "He seems to be stuck on this idea that I'm a child because I'm 50." He explained. "He doesn't seem to understand that I'm quite comfortably a middle-aged hobbit."

Dis felt her good humor return all at once. "Aw, such a cute little guy," she cooed at him, devilishly, "Kili, let auntie Dis have a turn for cuddles!"

Bilbo squeaked as Kili handed him over, and the rest of the room erupted into wild laughter as the hobbit suddenly found himself thoroughly cuddled. 

Later, as they all sat down again to feast, the whole company took turns telling Dis, Min and Gimli the tale of their grand adventure.

"And then, after all that, Bilbo wanted to leave us and go back to the Shire," Kili told his mother, "and we just couldn't let that happen."

"Ori was the one who figured out that we should adopt him," Fili added.

"Clever," Dis acknowledged, "but my nephew seems pretty stubborn. I can't imagine you told him and he just agreed to go along with it."

"That," Thorin said, "is a whole other story."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By popular demand, Dis arrives after the fact. And Dain, well, he just always struck me as kind of a jerk, so I hope you don't mind his portrayal here.
> 
> I was unable to find an official name for Gloin's wife. If anyone knows it, please let me know and I'll change it. I gave her a name based on the little I know of dwarven women's names. Specifically, Dis, because I actually don't know any others. I do know that Tolkein followed specific patterns with his names, such as all hobbit girls being named for flowers, and all human men having distinctively strong, viking-esque names. So in that keeping, I gave her a one-syllable name that seemed to fit with Gimli and Gloin (to me).
> 
> I don't plan on Gloin's wife becoming anything more that Gloin's wife in this story. But when I thought about it, it made too much sense that she and Dis would have some sort of friendship for me to leave out. They are two women in the same community with children who clearly knew each other, and who are in the same situation - waiting for loved ones who have gone away to war. Too many common bonds to be strangers, I think.
> 
> The next chapter will take us back in time a bit, to clever plots, and varied reactions.


	4. Tantrums never work when your companions find them adorable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a flashback chapter, the story of which Thorin must relate to a curious Dis. Something none of the company will likely forget. But it is not actually Thorin telling it.

Bilbo sighed as he slumped against the wall, listening to the great doors close behind him.  Knowing he wouldn't be able to keep his emotions in check for long, he'd sought solace in the first dark, empty corridor he could find.  He feared he'd looked a sight, scurrying away, trying to hide his face, but he supposed in the end it mattered little.  
  
He was going home.  He had to go home.  
  
It was just that he'd grown to care for his companions so.  He knew once he left that a dwarf-sized hole would form in his heart for each one of the company. He knew he would never be the same.  
  
Still, there was nothing for it.  He may seem young to irrepressible dwarven lads who had 20 years on him, but he was really quite old enough to feel the weight of his responsibilities.  He'd impulsively picked up and left the Shire, which had proven to be a rewarding experience for him.  But he'd left behind Bag End, barely pausing to lock the gate behind him - so the expression goes.  He was a bachelor, but that didn't mean he was a lonely old hermit.  He had friends who frequently came by to catch up on the news and share some Old Toby with him in the coolness of the evening; they surely must be wondering where he'd got to.  He had those he'd long employed to see to things about Bag End - people such as Holman Greenhand, who Bilbo suspected would continue to do the pruning and gardening, even though he'd not been paid for months.  What must they have had to do when Bilbo suddenly wasn't there to give them their wages?  There again was his responsibility to Bag End itself, which like all hobbit holes needed to be kept up regularly.  
  
In the excitement of his new adventure, and then during the harrowing reality it had turned out to be, Bilbo had scarce had a chance to think on such things.  Now, in the moments before sleep, when the excited thoughts of his day died down, they turned to what he'd left behind and what needed to be done, and weighed heavily upon his mind.  The worry of them was beginning to seep even into his dreams.  
  
Yet it was not just his responsibilities that he must go back to.  Bilbo hadn't been lying when he said that to a hobbit, family ties were terribly important.  Bilbo himself had chosen not to take a wife and have children.  It had truly been his choice, as he'd seen the interest in lasses' faces when he'd been a lad himself.  (Indeed, to this day the never married Verbena Goodbody flirted good naturedly any chance she got.) Yet even without such immediate family, to varying degrees, Bilbo had a plethora of blood relations.  He should be around them, keeping up with them. It was so very _integral_ to the nature of a hobbit to be a part of a tight-knit community.  For good or for bad, being inside the familial circle was the only way a hobbit could feel a sense of belonging.  
  
So it must be, Bilbo resolved as firmly as he could.  It must be.  He must return.  
  
And the wetness that ran down his face was not at all related.  Just these dangnable stone pathways, throwing up dust into his eyes.  
  
When great arms encircled Bilbo from behind, he allowed himself to sink into them, knowing instantly to whom they belonged.  
  
"I am sorry, Bilbo," Gandalf said, compassion filling his voice.  "I had assumed you would be going back to the Shire.  I did not mean to cause you such keen distress."  
  
Bilbo hiccoughed a little, then sighed, "Never think it so," he reassured his friend as he tried to bring his emotions under control. "No indeed, it was never you.  I have been... enjoying my time here.  Perhaps more than is proper.  I always intended on returning..."  'Home' wasn't the right word.  Not anymore it seemed, "well, returning back to the Shire.  The emotions I feel are foolish ones which surely will pass soon.  Please don't be bothered, Gandalf.  You words have done me no harm."  
  
Gandalf's arms tightened slightly around Bilbo's midsection.  
  
"Clever little Bilbo.  My words do you no harm, yet the action of approaching you about the journey has caused this distress.  Do not think that you can use your golden tongue against me so easily, lad.  I have lived quite a long life, and seen a trick or two in my day."  
  
Gandalf's words had their desired effect on Bilbo as he relaxed and chuckled.  "I shall have to work extra hard in the future, then."  
  
Gandalf chuckled as well and released the hobbit, turning him around to face him, and kneeling so that they were at equal height.  "My dear hobbit.  How far you have come from your little hole in the Shire.  And I do not mean the distance.  You are a wonder.  Tell me now.  Do you wish to go back to the Shire, or do you wish to stay?"  
  
Bilbo was silent for long moments.  Gandalf waited patiently, knowing how deeply Bilbo was searching inside himself.  
  
Finally Bilbo spoke, his voice weary but accepting.  "Honestly, Gandalf, I want to stay.  I have grown to love these strange stone halls, perhaps more than even the green pastures of my homeland.  It's just... I cannot live the rest of my life as a guest in another's home - a foreigner who will never quite belong."  
  
Bilbo's words lingered in Gandalf's ears as the hobbit quietly returned to his room, and with new resolve, he turned to speak to his dwarves.  
  
___  
  
Bilbo wasn't sure what woke him so suddenly.  He didn't think he'd been dreaming, but the groggy, clouded feeling in his head made everything seem so unreal that he wondered if his waking might yet be part of a dream. Then, like something from a nightmare, he watched the handle to the door move, and the door slowly creep open.  
  
Heart in his throat, Bilbo sat straight up in his bed, trying desperately to get his fuzzy mind to tell him what to do.  He couldn't seem even to scream as he watch the door in paralyzed apprehension.  
  
When Kili's head poked through the crack in the door, Bilbo sagged in relief.  "What do you think you are doing, lad?"  He demanded.  
  
This time it was Kili who startled.  "Bilbo, you're awake!" He exclaimed, coming fully into the room.  
  
"Only because you woke me," Bilbo groused, "What do you mean by sneaking into a tired old hobbit's room in the middle of the night?"  
  
Kili grinned.  "I didn't mean to wake you yet, but I was sent to bring you.  Uncle's having an emergency council.  Only those of us in the company are to be there."  Kili paused, actually pouting a little. "I'm almost disappointed, Bilbo.  I had hoped to carry my new cousin there, sleeping in my arms."  
  
Bilbo looked scandalized.  "Lad, cousin-of-the-heart or no, if you had gone through with that plan, I'd be forced to seek revenge, and while Bagginses are generally peace loving, Tooks are cunning and vengeful.  You should be made very unhappy for a very long time."  
  
Kili didn't look terribly swayed by this statement, but backed off so that Bilbo could get dressed. Then, quietly, he led the hobbit down a series of hallways until they reached a large room that Bilbo had never yet seen.  
  
The entire company was there already, waiting for their last two members to arrive.  It was a large and rather empty room, somewhat unusual for the decadent dwarves.  There wasn't any adornment whatsoever, no jewels lining the walls, no grand thrones - or any seating at all.  Just a large, empty room with a pedestal in the middle.  The pedestal held an unrolled scroll, a quill and ink, and a small dagger.  
  
Bilbo was mystified as he was led inside.  Beside the pedestal stood Thorin and Fili.  Gandalf stood behind them, with the rest of the dwarves gathered in a half-circle facing them.  It was an eerie, almost surreal picture that they made.  
  
Kili prodded Bilbo forward to stand before Thorin, and then went to stand at Fili's side.  Bilbo looked around, wondering what was going on, still half-believing he was dreaming.  Thorin stepped forward, and gripped both of Bilbo's shoulders, turning him so that the little creature's focus was entirely on him.  
  
"Bilbo, we have come to a decision, all of us together.  I hope that you know by now how deeply every one of us cares for you and how highly we hold you in our esteem.  The thought of parting from you saddens us all greatly, and we have decided to fight for you, that we might not lose you so easily.  To that end, we have come up with but one solution."  
  
With that statement, Thorin moved his hand to the pedestal, resting it beside the small dagger.  
  
Bilbo's breath hitched. "What does that mean?  What do you plan on doing with that?"  His voice was both sharp and hesitant.  On one hand, he trusted his dwarves with his life.  On the other, they turned to rather more violent solutions to problems than your average hobbit.  
  
Thorin looked confused, then his eye widened as he realized where his hand had come to rest.  He snatched it back as though it had been burnt, and moved to reassure their burglar.  
  
"No, Bilbo, I'm sorry.  We mean you no harm at all, and anything that happens tonight will be with your full consent."  
  
"Anything that happens tonight?" Bilbo repeated, doubt lacing his voice as he looked around for answers.  
  
Thorin bit his lip, knowing he was doing this all wrong.  The rest of the company stayed dutifully silent as dictated by the ritual, although Thorin swore he could see Gandalf smirking at him.  
  
"I'm messing this up," Thorin finally growled.  "Burglar, you are very special to us, and we want to keep you.  All of us do.  And since we know that you want to be around family, we... well, we propose to adopt you."  
  
That was certainly not what Bilbo had expected. "Adopt me?  As if I'm a helpless, orphaned lad?"  
  
"We certainly don't see you as helpless, Bilbo,"  Thorin tried to explain, "but according to our laws for adoption, you're well within the adoptable age range, and your parents _are_ dead."  
  
Bilbo gaped at him, "Want to run that by me again?"  
  
Thorin sighed.  "It seemed that your main reason for returning to the Shire was to be with family.  We cannot replace the family that you have there, but we thought perhaps we could give you a family here, too.  Not just of the heart, but in every way.  You'll belong to us, and we to you, just as closely as if you had been born a dwarf yourself."  
  
_**You'll belong to us as closely as if you had been born a dwarf yourself.**_   The words hit Bilbo's heart so abruptly that he lost his breath and the resulting emotion brought tears to his eyes.  
  
"So I'll, I'll be.."  
  
"My son." Thorin said, firmly.  
  
The tears in Bilbo's eyes spilled over.  He stood completely still, staring at Thorin, unable to speak.  When he got his voice back, it was hoarse.  "You... really want that?"  
  
Thorin didn't answer.  He just smiled and reached out again to grip Bilbo's shoulders.  At that Bilbo gave a shaky laugh and hugged a startled Thorin.  The hug was short, but there wasn't any doubt as to what Bilbo's answer was as to whether or not he wanted to be adopted.  
  
"I can't believe this," Bilbo said, stepping back, "but I'm honored." He smiled out at the rest of the company, most of whom were grinning back at him, but remaining very strangely quiet.  Normally there would be a dozen voices fighting each other to be heard, but they just stood there, silent and still.   
  
Bilbo's happy look slowly changed to confusion.  "What's wrong with them?" He asked Thorin.  
  
"Our adoption ritual is very specific.  This is more than just me adopting you.  Mine will be the official adoption, but the rest of us want you, too, as part of our community.  If you were a dwarf child, not only the primary guardian would adopt you, but members of his extended family or community.  Each one who performed the ritual would be responsible along with the primary guardian in making sure the child is raised well. This was put into place to prevent the parent from becoming abusive or too permissive.  Adoptions are extremely serious for us, and the solemnity of the occasion dictates that they must remain silent out of respect until they have completed their portion of the ritual."  
  
"What does the ritual involve?" Bilbo asked.  
  
"You and I must first sign the document, as proof to all who are not here that the adoption took place.  Gandalf will sign as a witness."  Thorin hesitated here. "Then, to become my son, my blood must run through your veins.  We will each cut our wrists, then hold them together.  After that, each one of us will plait a bead into your hair. The braids must stay in your hair for three weeks to let all who encounter you recognize you now belong to us - that you are now our family."  
  
Bilbo looked around at all the smiling, nodding faces, and sucked in a breath.  "Well, then, what are we waiting for?" He said, "Let's do this."  
  
He could have sworn the others were silently cheering.  
  
___  
  
The signing of the contract went quickly, first Thorin signing his name and then Bilbo.  It was the next part that was nerve wracking.  Thorin picked up the knife from the pedestal and took Bilbo's hand. As quickly as he could, he drew the knife across Bilbo's wrist in a thin line.  Blood burbbled to the surface.  Thorin then did the same to his own wrist and held it to Bilbo's.  Gandalf stepped forward with a length of cloth, binding their wrists together.  
  
Bilbo let out a sigh of relief.  He had known Thorin wouldn't actually hurt him, but he hadn't been keen on the prospect of getting cut, either.  He was glad to have been done with that so quickly.  
  
Thorin nodded his head at the other dwarves, and Fili stepped forward.  Smiling, he selected a lock of Bilbo's short hair, and carefully began plaiting it, weaving the bead of silver into it. The bead was simple, but bore Fili's name in Khuzdul. It was a mark of ownership, in a way.  Bilbo was now his - a part of his family.   
  
When he finished, he leaned toward Bilbo's ear and whispered something in Khuzdul. Then he backed away and Kili took his place.  Kili fumbled greatly trying to plait the short hairs on Bilbo's head, but managed at last with great pulling to complete the braid.  Before he stepped back, he whispered the same word into Bilbo's ear.  
  
One by one, each of the dwarves repeated the process, until nearly every hair on Bilbo's head had been plaited.  Fili's and Kili's beads had both been identical silver with their names engraved.  The rest of the company had each chosen different materials, shapes and sizes for their beads, though they all of them had their names inscribed on them.  
  
Thorin was the last to plait Bilbo's hair. His was to prove the hardest to braid as their wrists were still bound to one another.  However a lock of hair had been left for him at the front of Bilbo's head, which made the task doable. Thorin's bead was gold - the only one.  When he was done with the braid, he whispered the same word, followed by two others in Bilbo's ear.  Then he pulled away and Gandalf, who had not participated in the braiding, stepped forward.  
  
The old man caught up their bound wrists to untie them, and as he did so, their wrists suddenly started to glow.  After a moment the glow moved to encompass Bilbo's whole body, sending an electric shiver through him, before fading out.  Bilbo wriggled slightly, looking down at himself then back up at Gandalf for an explanation.  
  
"This is my gift to you, the only thing I can contribute to this happy occasion.  A hobbit you will forever remain, but now you will be given the proper time to spend with your new family.  I have given you the lifespan of a dwarf, or close to it."  Gandalf smiled as the whole company gasped.   
  
"Your life is no longer half over, Bilbo Baggins of Hobbiton," Gandalf finished the ritual with a flourish, "it is now just beginning, Bilbo, son of Thorin, son of Thrain, of the House of Durin!"  
  
The cloth slid from their arms as the company erupted into cheers.  
  
___  
  
Hours later found the new family in the great hall finishing a truly enormous feast.  Although it was still before breakfast time, a feast for the family to mark the occasion was apparently a tradition.  There would be another day of feasting in 24 hours, when the decision was announced.  Bilbo might not understand most dwarven rituals, but he fully agreed with anything that involved feasting.  
  
Since the ritual had ended, the whole company was abuzz with energy and good tidings.  They'd been talking of everything and nothing for the last few hours.  Bilbo, wholly unused to doing anything with his hair but cutting it, found the new braids itchy and uncomfortable.  Thorin frequently had to grab at Bilbo's hands to keep him from scratching the new plaits free, Bilbo grumbling good naturedly the whole time.  
  
It was so strangely right.  
  
"Thorin," Bilbo finally asked, "what was it that you all whispered to me after you braided my hair?"  
  
"It meant 'welcome'," Thorin said, "welcome to our family and to our community."  
  
"Yours was different." Bilbo stated.  
  
"I was welcoming a son."  
  
Bilbo felt sentiment rush over him, and he felt the urge to hug his newly adopted father again.  
  
"Bilbo," Ori spoke up, "Now the you are officially a dwarf, I can teach you Khuzdul, if you like.  It would be very useful as the king's heir, to know what was being discussed and written in contracts."  
  
The idea of learning the language held great appeal to Bilbo, and he readily agreed.   
  
Then he suddenly realized what Ori had said.  
  
"Wait, King's Heir?" He questioned.  
  
Dwalin took this moment to tease him. "Aye, what did you think, lad?  You are son to the King Under the Mountain."  
  
Bilbo's eyes grew large, "What?  Wait, no, what does this entail?"  
  
Bofur tried not to laugh at his friend's distress, "Well, I think it'll take some convincing, but sooner or later everyone will accept you on the throne.  You won't have to worry about it for many a year yet."  
  
Bilbo's breath caught.  He hadn't even thought on that possibility.  "Throne?  No!  What about Fili?"  
  
Fili was also trying not to laugh.  "Well, naturally I will be stepping down from the line of succession.  I am, after all, just a nephew."  
  
Kili's sigh was most convincing, "I don't envy you, Bilbo.  You have a lot of schooling to catch up on.  Hundreds of years of history, law, war strategy, diplomacy... why you'll be doing nothing but studying until you're king yourself!"  
  
"King... myself...?" Bilbo abruptly lost all color.  "No, absolutely not. I refuse."  
  
"It's a little late for that, Bilbo." Dori put in, "Ritual's over.  Legally, you're bound to Thorin as heir."  
  
This couldn't be happening.  There was no way Bilbo would be sitting on that throne.  "I don't care!" Bilbo voice shook in anger, "I absolutely wont be ruling anything or anyone!  If you even think of trying to force me into it, I'll leave right now, return to the Shire and never return.  I can't believe that not one of you would have **thought** to inform me of that possibility.  It is absolutely unacceptable..."  
  
As Bilbo's tirade continued, the dwarves couldn't stop themselves from bursting into laughter, finding the whole thing hilarious.  They hadn't been serious.  They'd known their burglar wouldn't want the responsibility or prestige of taking a throne.  Even had he wanted it, though, it would have been impossible politically, especially at such a new and unstable time, to try to give rulership to one born of another race.  It had never been done, and likely never would.   
  
But they couldn't resist teasing their little friend.  To them his rants were almost cute, like a kitten hissing to show it's dominance.  Not that they'd take Bilbo less seriously when it mattered, but it was fun to watch him get riled up.  
  
Finally Thorin put a stop to it. "Enough."  He said, addressing everyone, "hush, Bilbo.  We were just joking.  Fili is still my heir to the Throne.  You will never have to worry about that, nor will he.  I declared him heir long ago, and that cannot be undone while he lives.  Even were I to take a wife and produce a son from my body, Fili would inherit the Kingship."  
  
Bilbo let out a sigh of relief, before giving them all a ferocious glare for their teasing - which of course they all still found adorable.  
  
"However, in all seriousness," Thorin continued, "Ori made a good point.  You have already proven yourself to be an excellent diplomat, and I would like you to continue to be. Now that you can legally be taught, Khuzdul would be an invaluable tool for you."  
  
This seemed agreeable to everyone, and Bilbo felt a surge of happiness and pride well up inside him. So he wouldn't now just be relegated to a child. From now on, not only would he fully belong with his dwarves, but he would also be useful.  
  
He was wanted in a way he hadn't felt since his mother's death.  
  
He still had to go to the Shire, Bilbo decided, to tie up loose ends, settle his accounts with those who were taking care of his hole in his absence, make sure all was right.   
  
But Bilbo was no longer going home to the Shire. He was going back to take care of things, but then he was going to says goodbye to Hobbiton and its inhabitants and return home.   
  
Home, to the mountain.

 

/End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers,
> 
> Thank you so very much for your patience. I am sorry that this took me so long to post. Unfortunately since I started writing this, life has decided not to be entirely conducive to writing, especially what is a sweet and lighthearted story. But your comments and kudos were wonderful, and very very appreciated.
> 
> I feel that this is a pretty good stopping point for the prompt itself. So I've decided to officially declare this tale finished.


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